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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584051">The patterns of my nature</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnina/pseuds/saturnina'>saturnina</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tokyo Babylon, X -エックス- | X/1999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Possible Spoilers for X/1999, Spoilers for volume 7, Unhappy Ending, lots of introspection, spoilers for volume 6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:33:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnina/pseuds/saturnina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps, against his best interests, Seishirou had been craving for a miracle after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sakurazuka Seishirou/Sumeragi Subaru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The patterns of my nature</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subarukun/gifts">Subarukun</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>♥ Dear Subarukun: Happy Yuletide! I was really surprised when the opportunity to write a Tokyo Babylon fic came my way... It's one of my favourite mangas ever, even though it rips me to shreds whenever I read it. You asked for something written from Seishirou's POV and I tried to do just that. Not sure if I have succeeded though—I will let you be the judge! I used my knowledge of Subaru and Seishirou's interaction in X/1999 to hint at... possibilities... but I will let you decide whether it made any sense or not. Anyway, I wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy reading! ♥ </p><p>Oh, this story takes place between volumes 6 and 7 of the manga!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
<span class="small">"I think I recognize the patterns of my nature.</span><br/>
<span class="small"><i>But do you think you are free?</i>"</span>
</p>
  <p>
  <span class="small">(<i>Mutable Earth</i> by Louise Glück)</span>
</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>
  <i>Oh, dear Subaru… it seems you have lost our bet, after all.</i>
</p><p>A bet that had been solely based on Seishirou's whim, he knew it. Did he ever truly expect Subaru to win? Did he ever hope the younger man would tear through the veils of Seishirou's indifference to reveal a warm, pulsing jewel of emotion inside? That fabled miracle humans so exalted, lived and died for—</p><p>Love?</p><p>Standing atop of the Hospital building with the Shikigami on his shoulder, Seishirou watched the first lights of Tokyo sparkle like scattered pearls against the polluted darkening skies. Tokyo, that great light-adorned whore who spread its legs to all, promising pleasures and then sucking the unguarded into the toothed, bottomless hole of her hunger. Tokyo, a city that pretended to care but did not, democratic only in dispensing its indifference, cold and impervious to the pains it engendered, so much like himself. </p><p>He would love Tokyo, were he able to. </p><p>Seishirou took a long drag from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn its way into his lungs. The wounded eyeball did not hurt, and he did not even mourn the loss of his eyesight. One might say it was nothing at all to him but a mild physical nuisance. And such was the conundrum of the Sakurazukamori—that his actions did not seek to gratify a vacuous need for self-aggrandisement, but derived from a general callousness, an inability to feel much, which he extended to all including himself. He thrived not on the violence itself, but on the meaningless of all—a reality difficult to grasp for those who abided by shallow morals and pretensions of right and wrong, like the Sumeragi clan did.</p><p>His mother had died to make him who he was. She had not minded dying by his hand, and her legacy had been the single image of her love.</p><p>Truthfully, Seishirou did not mind dying either, and the passing of his legacy would too be the only act of love he was to perform. But the time to do so had not come yet.</p><p>On a purely intellectual level, he entertained the desire that Subaru had succeeded. He dared to wish that the pure and stupidly self-sacrificing onmyoji had found a way to break through the inherited looking-glass that separated Seishirou from everything else. The mirror through which a cup, a puppy and child looked the same, desperately strangled in the web of mortality, all equally worthless and equally breakable. Lives that were his for the taking, for no reason other than the fact he had the power to take them, and they were powerless to prevent him from doing so.</p><p>He dared to wish that Subaru had been something <i>else</i>, something <i>more</i>. Dear Subaru who, powerful as he was, insisted on getting caught in the snarl of other people's turmoil, searching for meaning in everything, for light in everyone… Subaru, who so fiercely fought against the cruel meaninglessness that both Seishirou and Tokyo embodied. For a whole year, he had managed to abate some of Seishirou's boredom... But that had not been enough to win the bet, of course, and now Subaru's time was up.</p><p>In any case, he was hardly to blame if Subaru chose to squander his precious life away in attempts to save a city that was beyond all redemption. Or to love a man that was beyond any possibility of love.</p><p>With a sigh born more out of habit than a particular feeling, Seishirou stubbed his cigarette under his shoe. Subaru had failed. He had not managed to reach inside him and discover the heart that, if Seishirou were to be honest, had never been there in the first place. And if the circumstances surrounding the bet and its inescapable result struck an unfair chord in him, Seishirou easily subdued the discomfort by remembering that Subaru was already dead.</p><p>Subaru had died that day, when they first met under the cherry tree. He had been merely existing in the extra time that Seishirou, for reasons he made a point of disregarding, had granted him. </p><p>Seishirou knew that he was meant to die someday by the hand of the one he loved. He thought, with mirthless humour, that such a destiny seemed so improbable he might as well ask for a miracle. Death was the tool of his trade, and although he was certain it would not fail to catch up to him, he doubted now that love would play any role in it.</p><p>Perhaps, against his best interests, Seishirou had been craving for a miracle after all. </p><p>He went back to his room to prepare the spell. Power surged in him, the well-known shape of his Shikigami expanding to enclose the dimensional slice he was creating inside the hospital room, so it would guard the borders and keep away unwanted guests. He opened the wormhole that would take him and Subaru back to the ancient blood-tainted cherry tree where it all began, and there was no hatred or disappointment in him as he did it, just the perfect conscience that everything was ending exactly the way it was supposed to. The bet had only been made because Seishirou knew that there was no possible miracle for him. Subaru had lost the bet from the start—but he had not been the only one to lose.</p><p>His prey would arrive any minute now. </p><p>A shame, really, to ruin such a lovely thing as Subaru, Seishirou pondered, with the detached endearment one feels when choosing to discard a beautiful vase because the décor has changed and it looks out of place now. Lovely Subaru. The last cherry blossom to remain white amidst all the blood and guts and piss that ran down the streets of Tokyo. A spirit so pure Seishirou wondered if he would be able to taste light on Subaru’s flesh while he maimed his pale limbs and gouged his insides out.</p><p>Seishirou would have loved him, yes, if he could have loved at all. </p><p><i>Any minute now.</i> No, the world was not made for lovely people. And what Tokyo had failed to tarnish, Seishirou took upon himself to destroy.</p><p>Seishirou heard the soft click of the door handle behind him just as he felt Subaru's brilliant aura enter the room and softly touch the edges of his spell, as if apologising in advance for invading. <i>Let the show begin</i>. Someday, he would have to die in the hands of the one he chose to love. Someday, his legacy would be passed on through blood, and the emptiness to which he was condemned would become someone else’s problem to deal with.</p><p><i>Someday</i>, Seishirou thought, poising himself for the final act. <i>But not today</i>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> None of the characters mentioned in this fanfic belong to me, and nothing said here about them is true. No copyright infringement is intended.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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